


Nametag

by icedlattetall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Caught, Love Bites, M/M, Overstimulation, Possessive!Harry, bottom!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:16:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedlattetall/pseuds/icedlattetall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis just wanted to watch a movie. Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nametag

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-post of something I posted earlier on Tumblr...basically, I just have Possessive!Harry feels all the time and cry a lot. Enjoy!  
> Tumblr: icedlattetall.tumblr.com

It’s a bit ridiculous, Louis thinks, for anybody to look as delectable as Harry does at this moment in time.

            The lads are all crashing at Louis and Harry’s flat, piled together on the tiny sofa with their limbs intertwined as they fight over the popcorn and have a Harry Potter marathon. Niall is cuddled snugly under Liam’ s arm, crunching loudly on a handful of buttery popcorn while Zayn’s legs are propped carelessly over his, Harry’s head on Zayn’s shoulder, his scorching green gaze fixated on Louis, a careless smirk playing about his perfect pink lips.  
            Louis can only stare back, helplessly ensnared by the younger boy’s attention, completely overwhelmed with the need to touch, to taste, to love his boyfriend, but all too aware of the other three warm bodies currently lounging on his furniture.  
            “Emma Watson is incredibly gorgeous, isn’t she?” Niall remarks a bit dreamily, earning himself a sharp nudge in the ribs and a snicker from Liam.  
            “I’m pretty sure Hermione only goes for guys with sensible heads on their shoulders, and you don’t quite fill the requirements, mate.” Niall howls indignantly at the insult, throws himself on top of Liam, and what began as a simple elbow nudge quickly devolves into an all out wrestling match.  
            Liam launches himself back at Niall, laughing brightly, and the two colliding warm bodies throw Zayn and Harry backward on the couch, Harry landing in Louis’ lap. While Zayn pushes himself upright again and cheers the two entangled boys on, Harry turns around and faces Louis, a devious light glinting dangerously in his eyes.  
           “Having fun, babe?” Harry whispers, leaning down until his mouth just covers the outer shell of Louis’ ear. Louis’ breath hitches, his pulse racing, as he slowly nods his head, unable to focus on anything but the sensation of Harry’s lips on his skin. Harry’s mouth stretches wide into a lazy smile at that, before he rotates his hips and grinds down into Louis, hard.  
           Louis gasps, feels his face flush and his pants stiffen, as Harry continues to move his hips in perfect circles, his eyebrows quirked with mischief, one eyelid falling down into a slow wink.  
           At this point, the other three boys have made their way back onto the couch, Niall grumbling about bruises and Zayn stealing the entire bowl of popcorn for himself. Liam peeks over Niall’s head to see Harry’s new placement on Louis’ lap and rolls his eyes fondly.  
           “Pretty comfortable there, Hazza?” He asks, adjusting his plaid shirt from where Niall had yanked at it. Harry’s answering smile is positively sinful, all blinding white teeth and rosy lips and desire.  
           “Pretty comfortable, yeah.” He calls back easily, pushing his bum back into Louis’ crotch again, who is now undeniably hard.  
           

            And this is how it goes for the rest of the movie, the other four boys joking and laughing, eating snacks and admitting their crushes on Tom Felton while Louis is just barely restraining himself from attacking Harry, feeling his hips ever so lightly pressing down upon his member and cataloguing every flirtatious wink thrown his way. Every time Harry reaches for the popcorn, or lunges for the remote, or goes to tap Liam on the shoulder, he shifts in Louis lap, grinding in figure eights, and Louis can’t help but wonder if it was really necessary for Harry to change the volume quite as many times as he did.  
           Finally, after what seems to Louis an eon of spells, fighting, and unresolved sexual tension between Hermione and Ron, the movie is over. He opens his mouth, ready to tell the lads good night and drag Harry to their bedroom the minute the door closes behind them, before Niall yawns, stands up, and pops the next movie in, expounding enthusiastically about Bonnie Wright’s eyes. The other boys show no signs of wishing to leave, simply settling deeper into the cushions and refilling their cups with soda while Harry joins in the post-cinematic chatter, discussing the merits of the different Hogwarts Houses, all the while subtly rubbing just so against Louis until the older boy is digging his nails deep into the sofa in an effort to keep from desperately whining.  
          It takes another ten minutes of this, of Harry teasing so cruelly and Louis being forced into silence by the presence of his other three best friends before he snaps, shoving Harry off of his lap forcefully and muttering a quick “Got to go to the bathroom” before racing out of the room and down the hallway, breathing heavily.  
He’s resting his head against the wall, attempting to think of Paul in a revealing sundress to calm the erection raging in his trousers, when he hears Harry tell the boys that he’s going to the kitchen to get more soda. Footsteps echo down the hallway, and Louis can tell the younger boy is getting closer and closer, can smell the characteristic and lovely smell of his boyfriend wafting down the hall.  
          Finally, he sees a curly head appear, and Harry flashes a grin at him, striding towards Louis confidently. He stands in front of him and reaches out a large, pale hand to palm at Louis through his trousers, his eyes unbelievably smug at the hardness he’s caused in Louis’ pants. ‘You’re a bit worked up there, love.” Harry sing-songs, quickly unzipping Louis’ fly and yanking his trousers down past his bum. Louis gasps, his boxers tenting obscenely in front of him, before reaching up to entangle his fingers in Harry’s curls, his arms pulling him ever closer to the boy in front of him.  
          “Bedroom. Now.” He pants, hearing the pleading and needy quality to his voice but being helpless to quell it with how aroused he is at the moment. Harry looks down at him, his head tilting to the side, before an absolutely filthy smirk overtakes his face and he denies Louis’ request.  
          “No, I think I’ve got a better idea, babe.” He whispers, his voice low and husky as his hands come to curl around Louis’ tiny waist. “How about I fuck you right up against this wall, not forty feet from where our friends are? Hm?” Louis feels his eyes widen, his pupils dilate, before strong, wide hands are gripping at his thighs and picking him up.  
Harry’s kissing him firmly now as Louis’ legs wrap tightly around Harry’s waist in an effort to keep himself from falling. He feels the other boy’s lips nipping at his tongue, suckling at his own lips, the intensity of the kiss sweeping him up in its swell of lust. Louis’ is helpless, allowing his mouth to be plundered by Harry’s greedy tongue before curling his own tongue over Harry’s teeth, a move that stops the taller lad in his tracks.  
          A low growl seems to originate from somewhere deep in Harry’s throat before Louis finds himself being slammed up against the wall, his shirt ripped over his head and thrown carelessly to the ground. Harry’s mouth has moved to Louis neck now, sucking large love bites into the skin with careless abandon as Louis’ small but deft fingers move to Harry’s trousers, undoing them quickly and pulling down the boxers underneath them. Harry’s cock is revealed, silky and hard, its head pink and glistening faintly, a sight that never fails to rob Louis of his breath. Harry groans into Louis’ chest, apparently pleased with the freeing of his member, before reaching down to yank Louis’ boxers down as far as they will go without having Louis’ thighs release their vice-life grip on Harry’s waist.  
         “Hold on, babe, will you just-two seconds Louis, hold on-“ Harry huffs, exasperated and amused in equal parts as Louis whines, scrabbling at Harry’s massive hands in hope that maybe they’ll start producing magical lube by themselves and Louis will get fucked that much faster. Instead, Harry wiggles his fingers into his pocket (no small feat, seeing as his trousers are practically painted on) and emerges triumphantly with a small packet of strawberry flavored lube. “I came prepared.” Harry winks cheekily, and Louis rolls his eyes and sniffs at him until Harry’s hand disappears from view and Louis almost sobs, bracing his head against Harry’s shoulder as he feels the first finger slowly penetrate his entrance.  
         Harry flexes the finger experimentally, attempting to stretch while Louis shudders a long breath out, trying to become comfortable with the intrusion. Harry pushes his finger in a bit deeper, causing Louis’ walls to contract tightly around him, before he is able to wiggle it a bit and loosen Louis a small fraction more.  
After what seems to be an eternity of prodding, Harry is able to slip in a second finger to join his first, the two digits scissoring and opening Louis up even more. Louis feels the fingers moving inside him, thrusting and stretching, before finally jabbing at his prostate, making him go limp in Harry’s arms and moan at the sensation, his jaw falling slack. His entrance widens more quickly after that as he relaxes into the pleasurable feelings, and a third finger is added, all three digits twisting and pulling before Harry finally slips his hand out and lines his tip up with Louis’ hole.  
         He pushes in firmly in one thrust, buried deep inside Louis to the hilt, while Louis splutters at the sensation, the pain and pleasure blurring into one massive swirl of desire. Harry’s eyes lock with Louis, before his head is dipping to whisper in Louis’ ear again, voice dark and seductive.  
         “Remember to keep quiet, babe, I expect the boys don’t want to be interrupted in the middle of The Goblet of Fire, hm?” A particularly rough thrust accompanies his words, and Louis is unable to hold back a whimper. Harry’s hips drive forward again, the blunt tip inside of him brushing his prostate firmly, and Louis’ mouth falls open, releasing a soft moan, his head thumping back against the wall. Harry’s thrusting in earnest now, rough and messy, the snap of skin upon skin deafening in the corridor as Louis feels his back chafe against the wall, his legs burning with the strain of holding himself around Harry’s waist. Louis feels his walls contracting around Harry’s penis, the delicious friction and drag of it inside of him, his sweet bundle of nerves absolutely quivering from the attention. Harry’s aim is unerring, every push forward is prodding at Louis prostate and sending of jolt of electricity racing through Louis’ blood, moans falling from his mouth loudly and unabashedly now.  
         Suddenly, a pale hand is smothering his mouth, his pornographic keens dying in his throat. “I told you, it’s not polite to interrupt the others.” Harry says simply, before resuming his delectable pistoning into Louis’ writhing body. Louis is throwing his head back and forth against the wall, his pants and whimpers being suffocated by Harry’s hand, pleasure zinging unrelentingly from his prostate as Harry moves his head down to take one nipple into his mouth and nip at the hardened nub.  
         Louis positively screams at that sensory overload, his mouth opening desperately against Harry’s hand, and Harry’s eyes flit up to Louis face, seemingly amused by his ecstatic expression. “You want to make noise, Lou? You want to let everyone know how good it feels when I’m fucking you and you’re mine?” Harry purrs, and Louis nods frantically at that, dying at the effort of restraining his euphoric moaning. “Fine. Go ahead. But make sure it’s my name that you’re screaming.” He whispers harshly into Louis ear before removing his hand.  
             Louis gulps for air before releasing an obnoxiously loud moan, breaking off into a whimper as he feels Harry’s hips positively slam into him, his head bouncing against the wall.  
             “I said say my name, Louis.” Harry grits out before slamming himself into Louis again, brutally biting at Louis’ collarbone.  
              Louis is only too happy to comply, unable to disobey Harry’s orders if he wanted to. He feels Harry’s blunt cock stab at his prostate once more, and a guttural moan is ripped from his throat. “Harry! Oh, God, yes, Harry! Please, please, Harry, please.” He hears himself begging, but can’t be bothered to be embarrassed about it because he’s too concerned with the way he’s being crowded against the wall by Harry’s lanky frame, his neck smothered in kisses and his bum abused in the best way possible.  
Harry’s breath is moist against Louis ear as he laughs, his hips beginning a slow grind. “Please what, love?” Louis attempts to gather his fractured thoughts, his mind’s ability to concentrate completely shattering by the way Harry is gripping at his thighs and nudging inside him.  
        “Please…please touch me. Please make me come, Harry, I need it. I need it.” Louis finally manages, his voice breathy and high-pitched. Harry gazes down at him, his eyes burning, before answering.  
             “Scream my name. Scream it until the boys will have to find earplugs to ignore us. Scream it until everyone knows who you belong to. Scream it and I’ll make you come harder than ever before.” Louis blinks, his eyes glazed, before he feels Harry draw almost completely out of him, Louis’ entrance clutching at his tip, before brutally smashing back into Louis and setting an unbearably fast pace.  
             “Harry!” Louis moans, gripping at Harry’s shoulders as the lad crashes his hips in and out of Louis, his cock almost becoming a blur between them.  
              “Louder.” Harry’s voice is short and demanding as his thrusts become even faster, the rough intensity of them making Louis brain short circuit. Louis moans open-mouthed, sobbing brokenly before a guttural moan is pulled deep from his abdomen by Harry’s forceful thrusts; Harry’s name is the only word he knows anymore, and he screams it, he screams it at the top of his lungs, with his head thrashing from side to side and his cock streaming pre-come, before one last thrust straight against his prostate sends his orgasm crashing in euphoric waves over him, his vision whiting out and his thighs trembling violently.  
             Louis comes down from his absolute bliss slowly, going limp in Harry’s arms, but Harry gives no sign of stopping his ridiculously fast and forceful fucking, his head beaded with sweat and dog tags clanking against his neck. Louis forces himself to breathe out his nose, wincing at the oversensitivity in his softened cock as Harry continues to drive into him violently, before his thrusts finally become uneven and stutter to a stop, hot come spilling into Louis and Harry biting hard at Louis’ shoulder.  
The pair pants dazedly into each others’ mouths for a moment before Harry lets Louis down, grinning at the trail of come leaking down Louis’ leg. “Left bit a mess there, yeah?” Louis can only swat half-heartedly at Harry’s shoulder, mind still blown from the amazing sex.  
            It’s at this moment that Zayn chooses to waltz down the hallway, whistling an aimless tune before stopping dead at the sight that greets him. Louis and Harry are still standing, entangled in each others’ arms, both covered in sweat, come and love bites with clothes thrown haphazardly all over the floor.  
            “I knew it!” Zayn crows accusatorily, hands flying up to cover his eyes. “Liam insisted that you guys had better manners than that, that you would never fuck with us three right in the flat with you, but damn, Louis is loud, and I knew it.” Harry’s grin is arrogant and smug as his draws Louis closer to him in his arms.  
            “Louis can’t help it when I’m fucking him like no other guy can.” Zayn snorts at Harry’s response, backing away down the hallway slowly.  
            “Next time, just stick a nametag that says Harry Styles or something to his forehead when you’re feeling possessive, honestly.”  
             Harry prods at one of the love bites on Louis’ neck, smirking. “This will do.”


End file.
